


Family, Kind Of

by laschatzi



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Extended Family, F/M, Family Fluff, KnightRook, alice from wonderland and other places, alice meets emma, alice meets killian, swan-jones-family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 08:29:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12883986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laschatzi/pseuds/laschatzi
Summary: Alice Jones from Hyperion Heights, Seattle, is curious to finally meet the man that looks like her papa's twin... and to hug the woman who saved his life.





	Family, Kind Of

 

“You'll take care of her, do you hear me, lad?” There's still a trace of the severe police detective in Killian's voice, and he gives Henry the no-nonsense look.

The young man huffs, but in a good-humored way, because he perfectly well understands his friend's concern. He's a father himself, after all, and the most important thing to him is the safety of his loved ones, especially his own daughter. “Of course I will,” he replies in a deep, soothing voice. “You can trust me, Hook.”

“Good.” Killian sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “I suppose then I'll have no other choice than to let her go.”

“Relax,” Henry tries to comfort, “she'll be back in no time.”

The former pirate nods grumpily. “Never too soon,” he grumbles and pulls Henry into a hug. “Say hello to your mother for me.”

“I will.” Henry returns the hug a little clumsily. “Sure you don't wanna come?”

“Maybe next time, lad.”

***

She walks along the street in her typical, carefree way, looking left and right with her huge blue eyes, soaking up everything she sees, like she always does. Henry offered to take her, but she declined, telling him she preferred the walk, because that way she could see more, discover more, satisfy her innate curiosity and her never ending thirst for seeing, hearing, learning – deeply rooted and stemming from the isolation in a goddamn tower for a big part of her young life.

Henry's directions were precise, and she doesn't let herself get distracted by the many new impressions she gets on her way, so she doesn't have problems finding her destination. When she's standing in front of the big white house that looks so inviting, she's feeling a little nervous for the first time, but then she pulls herself together and climbs the wooden stairs. Before she can get anxious about how the people living here might react to her, she quickly raises her hand and knocks at the door.

It's not long before she hears quick and eager steps, light, the steps of a child. Only moments later the door is opened, and she sees it's indeed a child – a blond little girl of maybe five, with long, wavy her, not unlike her own, and piercing blue eyes. Maybe the girl expected to see someone else, as she raises her eyebrows in a very adult, strangely familiar way.

Before either of them can say a word, she hears a strikingly familiar voice from inside the house, severe, but full of warmth, calling, “Alice! How many times have I told you not to answer the door without asking who's there first?”

The girl rolls her eyes impulsively, but then asks a little sheepishly and obediently, “Who are you?”

She smiles and hunkers down to be at eye-level with the little girl. “Hi, I'm Alice,” she says.

The girl's eyes widen in surprise. “But _I'm_ Alice,” she replies and tilts her head, and the two scrutinize each other.

***

Killian hurries to the door to see who's there, making a mental note to have a serious talk with his headstrong little daughter. He's always impressed – and also proud of – her fearlessness, but even if things have been quiet and peaceful in Storybrooke over the last years... well. You never know. It could always be some new villain sweeping into town, knocking at the Savior's door.

When he steps into the door frame, his hand automatically reaching for his daughter's shoulder, he's confused at first, because it looks like there's nobody outside. On his second glance, though, he notices that there _is_ indeed someone outside talking to his daughter... a girl, or rather, young woman, is crouching in front of her.

“Can I–“ _help you_ , he wants to ask, but he never gets to finish his sentence, because in that moment the girl lifts her face and looks up at him, and he stops breathing.

He knows that face, has known it his whole life. In the flesh, he hasn't seen it since he was a small boy, when she was hovering over him, smiling, humming her lullaby and tucking him in to sleep. And even if she was no longer with him, she never really left him – not through the bitter years of slavery, not through the terrible times after losing Liam and, later, his first love. She was there to soothe his aching soul, at least a bit, her features before his inner eye conjuring pictures of long lost times, of happiness and innocence, helping him to drift into sleep when he was too troubled to calm down by himself.

Killian Jones is looking into his mother's face.

This can mean only one thing. He shakes his head, just a little, and swallows hard because his mouth is so dry, before he murmurs, “Are... are you–“

And she beams, because for her it's just as overwhelming as it is for him – which makes the semblance even more striking. “Alice,” she says, and even her voice sounds like his mother's, “I'm Alice.”

He makes her stay for the dinner he's been cooking, and they're having it at the kitchen table, the three of them (it's Emma's turn to work the evening shift at the sheriff station today), and they're telling little Alice that she's some sort of cousin, which comes quite close to the truth... kind of. She accepts that without questioning any further, because she's seen weirder things in her family: she has grandparents who are barely older than her mom and dad, a brother who's old enough to be her dad and an uncle who's only a few years her senior. So yeah, she's fine with a new _kind-of_ cousin who wears the same name she has, who's adult but also _kind of_ isn't and whose eyes remind her so very much of her daddy's.

With the promise she'd see her new cousin again the following day, little Alice allows big Alice to tuck her in, and she's delighted that she miraculously even knows the lullaby daddy often sings to her.

Later, they're sitting again at the kitchen table, waiting for Emma to come home, steaming cups of tea in front of them (because Alice isn't a hot cocoa kind of lass).

Killian asks, “What brings you here?” He can't stop looking at her.

She flashes him her toothy smile. “I wanted to see you,” she tells him without hesitation, “and my younger namesake. Henry has told us a lot about his little sister.” She nods solemnly. “And I wanted to finally hug the woman who saved my Papa's life.”

At the mention of his other version, Killian frowns and tilts his head. “I can't believe he allowed you to travel all the way here from the other side of the country!”

Alice huffs indignantly. “You sound just like him!” she complains, all the pouty teenager, even though she's older than that. But somehow, it doesn't really sound like a reproach. “I'm an adult, and I've been on my own for a very long time,” she points our, “he doesn't have to _allow_ me anything.” Then she shrugs in an adorably sheepish way. “And he let me go because I was traveling with Henry.” She nods in affirmation. “He trusts Henry. Made him swear he'd protect me.”

“Ah,” Killian seems satisfied and points his ringed index finger at her. “That's more like it!”

She rolls her eyes and then tilts her head to scrutinize him closely. “I can't believe you look _just_ like him.”

He swallows, overcome by emotions suddenly. “And you... look just like your grandmother.”

Alice nods. “Papa keeps telling me that.” She looks at him earnestly. “She inspired him, you know. The woman who gave birth to me, she...” Briefly, a shadow flickers over her face, but then she draws a determined breath. “Well, she went to do whatever she had to do. But _he_... he never abandoned me, not until he had to, that is.” For a moment, she looks down at her tea, and her eyes are shimmering with the pain of the memory – the loss she'd endured, the abandonment, the loneliness for most of her life. It's an expression Killian remembers all too well from Emma during the first years he knew her, and his heart goes out to the young woman. But the moment passes soon, and when she looks up at him again all the sadness is gone. “He said, she would have done the same. My grandmother.”

Killian tilts his head in agreement, the emotion thick in his chest. “Aye, that she would have.”

***

When Emma comes home later and doesn't see her husband in his favorite corner of the couch, she calls for him.

“I'm here,” comes his reply from the kitchen, and she makes her way there, hoping he someone read her thoughts from the distance and is about to prepare a hot cocoa.

“Good,” she replies, “I could really use a...” The words die on her lips when she sees a blonde young woman sitting at her kitchen table. “Oh.” She stops dead in her tracks. “We have a visitor.”

Killian has already risen to his feet and smiles. “Emma, you won't believe who–“

But the young woman jumps to her feet quickly and surprises Emma by throwing her arms around her which has her stumble a step backwards. “Whoa!”

“You saved my father's life!” she exclaims and hugs Emma with surprising strength before letting go of her, as if she doesn't want to scare her.

Emma leans back a little to get a glimpse at the girl and huffs a confused laugh. “I did?” She scans the young face and finds something weirdly familiar without being able to put her finger on it, so she throws Killian a questioning look and finds him smiling fondly at the young woman.

“Love, this is Alice,” he answers her unspoken question and motions to their guest. Emma looks at the girl again and scrutinizes her closely, and the mysterious feeling of knowing her somehow gets stronger and stronger, the fact that the stranger shares her own daughter's name adding to the notion. Before her mind forms the thoughts, Killian explains, “She's the daughter of...” he tilts his head, “well, the other me.”

“Oh...” Alice beams at her so openly that Emma can't help but spontaneously like her. She returns the smile genuinely. “Henry told us so much about you, it's so nice to finally meet you!” she tells her and adds in all honesty, “Kinda weird, but great!”

Alice nods. “For me too,” she confirms, looks at the man who's identical to her father and shrugs, “but I've seen weirder things.”

“Haven't we all,” Emma replies dryly, marveling at the fact that the existence of another version of her husband doesn't creep her out at all anymore. “And where is he?” she asks and is secretly amused that Killian's eyebrow twitches at her question.

“Oh, he's home,” Alice tells her, “He wasn't sure if he should come. Since there's already _you_ here,” she gestures to Killian and tilts her head in a very Jones-ish way, “well, he didn't want to cause trouble.”

“Since when has that kept Killian Jones from doing the thing,” Emma murmurs fondly.

“Hey!” Killian protests, and Emma chuckles softly, laying a hand on his arm.

“And I love you for it,” she soothes and turns to Alice again. “And _home_ is...?”

“Seattle,” the young woman replies, and briefly a shadow flickers over Emma's face when she thinks about Henry and the time he's lost, the time with his love and his kid that was irretrievably taken from him, like the time that was stolen from _her_ , too. It was a long time ago, but sometimes she still thinks about it, and it _still_ hurts. It always will. And Seattle will forever symbolize Henry's lost years for her, and she feels uneasy whenever he goes there for a trip. She can't imagine that someone who was cursed to an unfulfilled, unhappy existence at a place would decide to live there when they didn't have to. But then she thinks of her parents and most of their friends who were cursed and banned to Storybrooke, a foreign world, and yet, after the curse was broken, most of them decided to stay and made it their new home.

“I know,” Alice's voice wakes her from her thoughts, “bad memories, you'd think, but,” she shrugs, “also fond ones. We found each other again there, and... Papa says, as long as we have each other, we have everything we need.”

Emma swallows and smiles. “Yeah, that sound like something your dad would say,” she agrees and squeezes Killian's hand. “Is he okay?” she wants to know.

“Oh yes,” Alice says, “he's doing great. Since he quit the police and got his ship back–”

“Got his ship _back_?” Killian interrupts and raises his eyebrows. “Did he _lose_ her?” He almost sounds a little offended.

“Oh no.” Alice shakes her head. “He gave up his ship so he could,” she shrugs again, “stay and take care of me when I was little.”

“He gave up his ship for you?” Emma echoes, her eyes sparkling.

“Why _yes_ , do you doubt it?” Alice asks defiantly and narrows her eyes, ready to jump to her father's defense, and Emma's heart is about to melt when she sees the unconditional love and protectiveness in the young woman's expression. She realizes that Killian Jones of Hyperion Heights is fiercely loved, and in Emma Swan's experience, _every_ version of Killian Jones deserves nothing less than that.

“Not for one minute,” she replies, and Alice's features relax again when she sees Emma's genuine kindness. Emma looks at Killian and then back again at Alice. “You know, that's kinda his thing.”

The young woman smiles and tilts her head. “He even took care of me when we didn't know who we really were.”

Emma thinks back to a bashful young man in another realm, willing to stand up to an evil queen and to die for a stranger and her son because of a bizarre story she told him and a mysterious connection he'd felt. She looks at Killian with a loving smile, and he must have imagined what she's thinking about, because he averts his eyes for a moment and scratches behind his ear.

“Like I said,” she just comments and asks out of the blue, “Are you staying with Henry?”

“Oh... yes,” Alice nods quickly, thinking she's being kindly asked to leave now, “I'll just–“

Emma raises her hands. “No, no, no,” she interrupts, “I wasn't ushering you out. Why don't you stay here for tonight?” she suggests. “We have a guest room, and I'm sure Alice will be delighted to see you tomorrow morning.”

Alice hesitates. “Ah... I don't know...” She looks at Killian who smiles and tilts his head in an encouraging nod. “That would be nice, but I wouldn't want to cause any inconvenience...”

Emma shakes her head. “That's no big deal, really.”

“I could maybe crash on the couch,” Alice shrugs, “I don't need much, I used to live in the streets...”

That hits Emma hard; they knew this detail from the young woman's past from Henry, but it's different to hear it from herself. Emma takes a step in her direction and suppresses the urge to hug her, seeing her younger self for a moment in this girl's eyes. “Alice,” she tells her firmly, “I have magic. Preparing a guest room isn't an inconvenience. And – I've been there, and I know it's not easy to let others take care of you. But trust me, it gets better.”

Half an hour later, an exhausted Alice is sleeping soundly in a bedroom upstairs, while Emma and Killian are snuggled up to each other on the couch and Emma finally got her hot coca.

“Is it weird for you?” she wants to know. “I mean, we've seen all kinds of weird stuff, but knowing that there's someone who shares part of your memories, who looks and sounds exactly like you...”

“I'm quite unique, Swan,” he teases mildly, and she knows it's his way of dealing with the situation.

“You are,” she confirms, “you and he... you're different persons with different lives and histories who just happen to share the same name, good looks and character traits.”

“Mhm.” He brushes his lips over her temple almost absentmindedly, not taking the bait to respond with banter, proof of how serious he was. Emma waits patiently for what he's about to say. “I'm glad she came to see us,” he finally admits. “It's amazing... she looks like my mother.”

Emma smiles to herself as she snuggles closer into his side. “I could see you wanted her to stay,” she tells him, and he hums his agreement into her hair. She's not the only one who is an open book sometimes. “The other you...” she goes on, “he was looking after Henry when we couldn't, and it's the least we can do to look after his daughter now. Besides...” Emma tilts her head a little to the side, so she can look into his eyes. “She's probably kind of family.”

Killian nods slowly. “Aye,” he agrees, “it certainly feels like she is.” Emma huffs a little laugh, and he tilts his head with a smile. “What?” he inquires.

She shrugs. “I'm just thinking... it's really amazing. Our family, I mean. Okay, extended family.”

“Unusual, you mean?” he asks.

“That too,” she agrees, “but what I meant was... we were all alone in some way. Just look at us: my parents, Regina, Henry, Ella... even Gold.” Emma ignores Killian's clenched jaw at the mention of the former Dark One's name and continues, “You, me, Zelena... and now the other you... and Alice. We were all loners, lost souls, wanting nothing more than a family, a place to belong. And now we're all thrown together to be that family.”

He smiles and brushes a strand of hair from her face. “And I have a feeling we're not finished yet.”

 


End file.
